Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht
December 15th 2008 23:06
When maverick filmmaker Werner Herzog took it upon himself to direct a remake of what he felt was one of the most important German feature films ever made he ended up making a movie just as richly atmospheric, but burnt with a searing melancholy that brands itself to the viewer’s soul.
Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht (1979) is more than a just remake of F. W. Murnau's silent masterpiece; it is an adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula that doesn’t have to hide behind the guise of changed character names (although curiously Stoker’s novel is again uncredited). Klaus Kinski, Herzog’s muse, plays Count Dracula, Isabelle Adjani plays Lucy, Bruno Ganz plays Jonathon Harker, Roland Topor plays Renfield, Walter Ladengast plays Dr. Van Helsing, Martje Grohmann plays Mina.
Herzog wrote, produced and directed, and made two versions of the film: one in his native German tongue (aka Phantom of the Night), and one for, primarily, the American market; Nosferatu the Vampyre. All the sound in the movie has been dubbed in post-production, which adds a heightened theatricality to the visuals. Much of the cinematography has been shot using available light, and the entire movie (like Murnau) was filmed on location around Europe. Dracula’s Transylvanian castle is an extraordinarily eerie, yet beautiful location.
The whole movie floats and drifts like an ornamented funeral barge; dark and macabre, yet blanketed with a shadowy grandeur and desolate beauty; like the white-grey beach that Lucy finds herself wandering along after Harker has gone on his mission to assist the Count in his move to their home town of Wismar. It’s a film lost in time that transcends the ages.
The three leads are perfectly cast and inhabit their characters effortlessly; but it is Isabelle Adjani’s immaculate porcelain skin, vacant eyes, luxurious hair and those full lips, contrasted with Klaus Kinski’s pointed ears, piercing eyes, hideous curled talons, and that mouth that linger longest in the mind. Adjani and Kinski make for a most powerful dual visage: the juxtaposition of pure innocence, elegance and pulchritude against deep-rooted lust, evil and grotesquerie. The vista and the abyss.
Although Herzog uses Stoker’s characters names he follows Murnau’s version of events more closely, but changes the very end significantly, departing from both Murnau’s film and Stoker’s novel. I hadn’t seen the movie in quite some time and had forgotten how “Hollywood” Herzog’s ending is, it not only has a lead character riding off into the sunset (or in this case the sunrise), but it suggests there could be a sequel.
Herzog has made some powerful and evocative films - both dramas and documentaries - but his homage to Murnau’s Nosferatu is my favourite, and not just because it’s a horror movie. With its haunting soundtrack (courtesy of Popol Vuh) and striking visual narrative, there’s something deeply affecting about this particular tale of bloodlust. The theme of supernatural possession mirrors a strangely human experience of loneliness and longing; spectres of sex and death whispering close enough to make the hairs on your back bristle. An overwhelming Gothic presence that creeps under the skin and crawls like pestilence, yet soft and dreamy, that stirs and yearns and echoes across the mountain steppes.
But Herzog’s Nosferatu is an acquired taste; its languid narrative will send the average Coffin Joe to sleep. You need to surrender yourself. Have a stiff whiskey, perhaps a late night puff, and then open the window to let the cool breeze waft through the moonlit room, and settle back. Nosferatu will embrace you, sliding its phantom arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer until you’re shrouded in the undead darkness …
Here's the original German trailer:
Here's the original American trailer:
Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht (1979) is more than a just remake of F. W. Murnau's silent masterpiece; it is an adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula that doesn’t have to hide behind the guise of changed character names (although curiously Stoker’s novel is again uncredited). Klaus Kinski, Herzog’s muse, plays Count Dracula, Isabelle Adjani plays Lucy, Bruno Ganz plays Jonathon Harker, Roland Topor plays Renfield, Walter Ladengast plays Dr. Van Helsing, Martje Grohmann plays Mina.
Herzog wrote, produced and directed, and made two versions of the film: one in his native German tongue (aka Phantom of the Night), and one for, primarily, the American market; Nosferatu the Vampyre. All the sound in the movie has been dubbed in post-production, which adds a heightened theatricality to the visuals. Much of the cinematography has been shot using available light, and the entire movie (like Murnau) was filmed on location around Europe. Dracula’s Transylvanian castle is an extraordinarily eerie, yet beautiful location.
The whole movie floats and drifts like an ornamented funeral barge; dark and macabre, yet blanketed with a shadowy grandeur and desolate beauty; like the white-grey beach that Lucy finds herself wandering along after Harker has gone on his mission to assist the Count in his move to their home town of Wismar. It’s a film lost in time that transcends the ages.
The three leads are perfectly cast and inhabit their characters effortlessly; but it is Isabelle Adjani’s immaculate porcelain skin, vacant eyes, luxurious hair and those full lips, contrasted with Klaus Kinski’s pointed ears, piercing eyes, hideous curled talons, and that mouth that linger longest in the mind. Adjani and Kinski make for a most powerful dual visage: the juxtaposition of pure innocence, elegance and pulchritude against deep-rooted lust, evil and grotesquerie. The vista and the abyss.
Although Herzog uses Stoker’s characters names he follows Murnau’s version of events more closely, but changes the very end significantly, departing from both Murnau’s film and Stoker’s novel. I hadn’t seen the movie in quite some time and had forgotten how “Hollywood” Herzog’s ending is, it not only has a lead character riding off into the sunset (or in this case the sunrise), but it suggests there could be a sequel.
Herzog has made some powerful and evocative films - both dramas and documentaries - but his homage to Murnau’s Nosferatu is my favourite, and not just because it’s a horror movie. With its haunting soundtrack (courtesy of Popol Vuh) and striking visual narrative, there’s something deeply affecting about this particular tale of bloodlust. The theme of supernatural possession mirrors a strangely human experience of loneliness and longing; spectres of sex and death whispering close enough to make the hairs on your back bristle. An overwhelming Gothic presence that creeps under the skin and crawls like pestilence, yet soft and dreamy, that stirs and yearns and echoes across the mountain steppes.
But Herzog’s Nosferatu is an acquired taste; its languid narrative will send the average Coffin Joe to sleep. You need to surrender yourself. Have a stiff whiskey, perhaps a late night puff, and then open the window to let the cool breeze waft through the moonlit room, and settle back. Nosferatu will embrace you, sliding its phantom arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer until you’re shrouded in the undead darkness …
Here's the original German trailer:
Here's the original American trailer:
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Comment by Damo
The DVD is like a phantom also.
Sound track by Popal Vuh.
They are terrific.
Comment by Natalie 2
My Life My Muse
Beta Girl Blog
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Natalie, search and ye shall find ... just like the Count on his quest for fresh blood.
Comment by Anonymous
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile